Awake in the Darkness
by Lost-Remembrance
Summary: What if the Talent hadn't been fast enough and Jonah was spirited away? Will they be able to find him and repair the damage done to him? Stephen Cole's Thieves Like Us, Thieves Til We Die, Bloodline Cipher fanfiction. Dark and angsty.


Disclaimer: I don't own Stephen Cole's trilogy (and maybe more?) Thieves Like Us, Thieves Til We Die, or The Bloodline Cipher.

Author's Note: I had always wanted to do a Thieves fanfiction—I love the series/trilogy to death. From the characters, the plot, and the language (British humor, what more can you ask for?), to even the paper and binding used for the paper back books (Thieves Like Us and The Bloodline Cipher namely), are all amazing. I highly recommend these books to any interested in having a good read. Alas, there are few fanfictions available (none that I have found thus far). I finally got around to typing this up from where it was housed in a journal I took with me on vacation.

Second Note: Yes, yes… another story. This may or may not be updated soon, because I've been wanting to rewrite a Gundam Wing story among other stories to type up from the same journal…

Warnings: Angst, dark, mentions of NCS, violence, language, etc.

Note: This is an AU off of the Bloodline Cipher, of which I am unsure if it has been published in the States yet…

**A****wake in the Darkness**

By: Lost-Remembrance

Jonah sat with his hands tied in front of him, eyes listless as he heard the voice from the nearby podium drone on. Slowly, he was retreating once more off into his mind, safe from harm and the abuse of his captors. The auctioneer was already done listing his many talents to the audience, and there was a low murmur from the crowd. The auction had begun…

"Where's Jonah? And Saitou?" Tye questioned, looking around at all the carnage caused Street and his haphazard shooting of a semiautomatic. Bodies littered the floor, painting the tiles crimson red. Occasionally, some moaned before slipping off once more into the dark void of unconsciousness.

Frowning, the rest of the Talent minus one also looked around for their cipher-funk friend and companion. A trickle of fear ran through her upon realization that the bitch that planned all this was also gone. She hated it—both the feeling and the woman.

Coldhardt frowned as well, standing a little off with the others, "Saitou can't have gone far—he was wounded by Sadie's bolt."

The lights shut off, and the once continuous thrum of power from the island was now silent. Maya ran forward from a darkened tunnel." The power's been programmed to stay off from the next half-hour—where's Jonah?" she quested as Tye had done so before her. "I searched all the cells, but they were empty…"

Fear overtook all the adrenaline in their veins…

Maya had left, and Coldhardt had told the truth of what happened to cause such hatred between Street, Saitou, and him. Then, upon finding Patch alive, they quickly gathered the youngest member of their team and hurried him off to be treated in a nearby hospital.

Patch had woken up within the first day of his hospitalization. Groggily blinking awake, he noted how only Tye, Con, and Motti were in the room, anxious for hi return to consciousness. Groaning and gesturing for a drink, he wet his parched mouth and scratchy throat. "Where's Jonah?" he questioned, a sinking feeling surging through his body when each of their faces fell at his question. "What's going on?" he frantically questioned once more, trying to make his body move but failing. "What'd I miss?"

"Jonah…" Tye began, but stopped when her voice choked. "…is missing."

Saitou and Bree were elated when the results from the auction had been announced to them. "Jonah is certainly worth his weight in gold."

"Hm." Saitou murmured in response, agreeing wholeheartedly as he reread the numbers—Jonah had been purchased for 36.9 billion dollars—one of the most expensive "items" sold at the auction house.

"The money in question will be funded to your account electronically. Each of you please…" The finisher continued on instructing them through the steps of closing the auction.

Jonah had been placed in the middle—nestled in between Saitou and the highest bidder—a young man who had quickly made his fortune in various markets. His name was Masahiro Knight—a man in his middle twenties, with cool steel blue eyes and midnight colored hair. He was a rising star in the underground world. His hand was playing with Jonah's hair, twirling it between his fingers. There was a delightful smile on his face. Bree was seated next to Saitou, silent now as the deal was finalized.

The auction had closed—Saitou stood first, shook hands with the man who helped compensate him for his investment into crushing Coldhardt. And he wasn't going to split the funds either. It was all his. Bree stood as well and with a long glance at Jonah, she turned and left the room.

Also giving one last look at the all but comatose Jonah Wish, he turned sharply and left the room, closing the door with a resounding click. He never did quite know what the men he hired did to Jonah in order to break him so…

"I found him." One sentence—three words—that send a pulse of energy through her veins and compact frame. Tye looked up at Con. "One of the men I mesmered told me quite a lot of a young business associate Mr. Knight and his newest "pet". We must go now, yes?" Tye was already grabbing her gear.

Ten hours later they had formulated a plan and laid out all the basics to Coldhardt. It had been five months. Five long and seemingly endless months. Patch had recovered. Coldhardt enlisted a new doctor to take over primary care of his little family. Doctor Meitzel was very efficient ad one of the best doctors available for hire. Already Patch was healed up, although his hands were more difficult. Yes, they weren't as damaged as originally thought. Upon analysis of his body, his actually didn't sustain the worst of the burns. Pushing Jonah away and landing face down helped minimize the damage done to his fingers. Meitzel was still checking her patient everyday, despite his clean bill of health.

"I've got no other patients to look after." She explained with a smile to Patch, who simply nodded with a goofy grin of his own. He was certainly enjoying all the attention from the voluptuous and somewhat young brunette. None the less, he was already itching to go on his next mission and rejoin his family.

"Show us where hi is now, bitch!" Motti growled, eyes narrowing in fury. He unlocked the safety of the gun held steady and loaded.

The woman—dressed in a maid's outfit, had dirty blonde hair that was ruffled an dark brown eyes rimmed in red. Tear marks ran down her blotchy face. A bruise was already blossoming on her cheek and her lip was split, but the blood was already dried in a crusty brown scab.

"Now, damnit!" Con appeared besides him from a nearby hallway, raising an eyebrow at the woman's state of appearance—it was rather unlike Motti to be so brash, but... Tye walked into the room next, assessing the situation,

"Motti?" Tye questioned for the two of them.

"This little lady here is kindly going to lead the way to where Jonah is."

"Master Knight will find out ho you are if you take away his most prized possession." Con's eyes flashed dark at the mention of Jonah being a possession. A growl emitted from Tye at the maid's choice of wording also. The girl quivered where she stood, eyes locked onto the barrel of the gun still pointed at her. "If I show you, I'll pay for my transactions…" Her eyes clouded in thought. "No matter what I do, I'll die for this…" Then, she quietly began to make her way down a nearby hallway. Motti kept the gun trained on her as she led the Talent towards their lost family member…

"Shit." Motti softly said, breaking the shocked silence that surrounded the group. In truth, the dark haired teenager didn't know what else to say. Even the ever-hyper Patch would be at a loss for words.

The last few months obviously hadn't been kind to Jonah, His skin had lost its healthy glow ad he was now almost deathly pale. Despite the clothing he wore and the covers tucked in around him, the group could tell that he had drastically lost weight. Under his eyes were dark smudges—bruised skin under his eyes and above his hollowed out cheekbones. His features seemed worn and gaunt.

"Jonah?" Tye questioned to the sleeping figure, part of her still not believing this slumbering figure was the Jonah she could still see in her minds eye.

"What did that bastard do to him?" Con all but growled, turning on the maid with fire in her eyes.

The maid cowered in on herself, closing her eyes. "M-Master Knight has done nothing to Mr. Jonah. He has dressed and cared for him as a prince for his services—he treats him as a treasure and looks after his property—but…" She quivered again, shivering uncontrollably.

Con continued to stare at the maid who finally met the petite girl's eyes. Con's voice turned to a low, sensual rumble as she eased away the girls worries and thoughts with her abilities. "You wish to help us, yes? Tell us everything you know."

"Master Knight purchased him five months ago." She began, when he returned here with him, he were given strict instructions to give him nothing but the best. Master hired a team of personal bodyguards—hand picked by himself—to protect him, and stop any possibilities of escape. However…" Her eyes were still glazed, but took on more of a sorrowful sheen to them, masked by sadness as if she was about to cry for the state of the teen. "He later found bruises, cutes, and other…marks of abuse on his body. Mr. Jonah remained listless much of the time. Master Knight has tried everything, but it's as if Mr. Jonah no longer wishes to live…"

_They haunted his dreams. Often, he remained at the computers. The click-clack of the keyboard held the monsters at bay. They were always waiting there, in the darkness… Touching him—hurting him, The pain, and the tears… Endless._

Jonah slowly blinked his eyes open, batting away the last vestiges of sleep. He pushed his body upright. A throw blanket nestled on top of the comforter he was cocooned under slipped down and onto the floor. The sounds of voices drew his attention towards the open doorway, and he was surprised to see figures in the room—only a few maids were on duty and few entered into his room. Blinking them into focus, he frowned in confusion. It wasn't possible, right? "Tye?" He whispered the question, not really wanting the possibility of shattering the illusion. Luckily, the room was silent enough to carry his whisper and paper-thin voice to her. Too long had his voice gone unused…

Quickly, Tye ran to his with tears built up in her eyes, threatening to break free from her well built control and streak down her face. Damn emotions to hell—they'd finally found him! "Jonah!" Tears ran down her cheeks, and she reached out her arms to embrace him. She fell short, however, when she saw through her tears how he flinched and pulled away, as if he feared the contact.

A look of worry crossed Con's face and Motti frowned. Deep pain etched itself into Tye;s face and her eyes briefly before she whisked them away and rid her face of anything but happiness, concern, and worry for her (boy)friend.

"How did you get here?" Jonah questioned, looking at his only family and friends. "How…" his voice cracked briefly, "how did you find me?" After a month, he had given up all hope. They were specialists, after all. Planning a heist for Coldhardt should have taken longer than finding him. After all, 36.9 billion dollars was a large paper trail to follow, Switzerland laws and offshore bank accounts be damned.

"Oh, Jonah…" Tye began, but stopped short once more upon looking to Motti who was shaking his head back and forth. He lifted his hand and tapped his watch. They were on a short time frame, before the guards awoke from their unconscious state or Knight decided to cut his evening event short and return home early with the rest of his manpower.

"Look, Geek, but we gotta tail it outta here before anyone wakes up or comes runnin'. It certainly wasn't the easiest house to break into." With that he walked up to Jonah and grabbed his arms, pulling him forward slightly. The covers shifted as Motti tried to help him from the bed.

Jonah tried to pull away, unsettled by Motti's actions and the look in his eyes—sorrow? Regret? He felt a prick in his skin, drawing him away from his thoughts.

"Sorry, Jonah." He tore himself away from Motti's regretful eyes, and looked down to his arm, unsure of this feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. The world began to tilt and spin, darkening. In a weak and wavering voice with a tint of fear, Jonah questioned his friend as the unsettled feeling grew amidst the shifting and hazy world, "What did you do to me..?"

TBC


End file.
